The Incident
by Lacey
Summary: Purple manages to accidently tick Red off. With Red's temper, Purple had better stay out of sight!


**Disclaimer: ** Invader Zim is property of the oh-so-spiffy Jhonen Vasquez and his tribe of winged monkeys at Nickelodeon. This story is just a bit of fluff to get the creative juices flowing, and is heavily rp-influenced. Hi Bast-chan! ^.^ If you want to set this up on any sort of ficcy time line, this takes place during the rivalry phase between Red and Purple in _A Tale of Two Tallest_. 

**The Incident **

Red stalked through the halls of the Irken palace, robes swirling angrily about his lithe body. How dare Purple! In his mind's eye, Red could still see perfectly his partner's gaze - embarrassed, frightened, shy. As if it wasn't bad enough that the whole incident happened, Purple hadn't even been able to act like he'd done it on purpose and thus give Red plenty of excuse to kill him. Oh no! He'd had to stand trembling in his doorway, stammering apologies, while the damned blanket clustered around his feet. Stupid Purple! 

An accident! The perfect reason to kill Purple, and it was nothing more than an accident. If Purple had acted like the whole thing had been nothing more than a ploy to disconcert Red, Red would be putting Purple's head up on his wall as a trophy. But no! Purple just had to go and apologize and dash into his room, apparently just as mortified as Red. 

Red threw open the door to his own quarters, growling angrily. All right, so maybe it was a little late, and maybe he had been making a bit of noise outside of Purple's room. Purple had a meeting scheduled for the morning, and Red wanted just once to see Mr. Perfect at his less than diplomatic best. Seriously, though, if Red had known that Purple was going to come barging out of his room, wrapped up in nothing but a blanket, to shout for silence, and that the blanket was going to slip from his fingers, Red wouldn't have bothered. 

As he entered his room, some of the tension flowed out of Red - the familiarity of his quarters proving soothing. Admitted, the room wasn't in the greatest of shape, house-keeping not being high on Red's list of priorities, but it was home - moreso than the rest of the palace. Red had decorated the room himself, adorning the walls with his collection of weapons. The furniture, while of excellent quality, wasn't in the best of condition, having more than once born the brunt of Red's temper. 

Red slid beneath the covers of his bed, trying to drown out images of a lavender gaze. Everything would be fine in the morning. He could go to sleep and dream of conquest, and forget all about the... the... the Incident with Purple. Yes, that's just what he would do. Tossing and turning, Red tried to tell himself that it was a lump in the mattress that was keeping him awake. 

Morning found Red still in a bad mood, with the dark circles beneath his eyes testifying to his lack of sleep. After gulping down a quick breakfast in his room, Red slid on some long pants, grabbed a towel, and made his way to the palace's gym for his morning work-out. At least there he wouldn't have to worry about bumping into Purple. 

The gym was a marvel of Irken technology, with all the latest equipment mixed among the tried and true classics. Purple steadfastly refused to use the gym, calling it "The Torture Chamber." Red, however, made it one of his regular haunts. "Now," he muttered to himself after a few quick stretches. "Where to start today?" The sparring robots were always fun, but Red preferred to start off with something less strenuous and work his way up to them. Weights maybe, but he'd used them yesterday. Red's crimson gaze settled on the ever-classic punching bag. Yes, that would do! 

Tossing his towel on the weight bench, Red turned and bowed at the punching bag as he would to acknowledge a combatant in a formal fight. Since the punching bag couldn't return the gesture, Red went at it immediately, attacking in a flurry of speed. Slash! Kick! Shy violet eyes... Pound! Smack! That quirky, knowing smile... In Red's mind, Purple's face superimposed itself over the punching bag, a fitting target to attack. 

"Excuse me, my Tallest." Red broke away from the punching bag and fell into a defensive crouch at the sound of the soft, dusky voice. A Tall leaned against the door frame, lips twitching slightly as a smile tried to force itself on her face. Red's gaze took in the intruder, lingering on her bare midriff and the little bit of skin showing between the tops of her thigh-high boots and thong-like codpiece. He sighed as he recognized her. Tall Siy was a toady of the Traditionalist faction. Yet one look at her clothing, or lack thereof, was enough to let anyone know that she didn't particularly value the Traditionalist beliefs. She just attached herself to anyone she thought would get her more power. 

If his situation had been different, Red probably would have attached himself to the Traditionalists also. However, since he was one of the "double-ruling abominations" that they were so rabidly vocal against, he erred on the side of prudence. He'd tried often to convince Purple that the Traditionalists should be eradicated, but Purple kept insisting that it was all a part of politics and that if they somehow did manage to wipe out every single Traditionalists another faction would rise to take their place. "What do you want, Siy?" Red growled. 

Siy allowed her grin to show. Whatever she had to say, Red realized that he probably wasn't going to like it. "I thought you might like to know that your _esteemed_ colleague hasn't shown up yet for the meeting with the Jaelidians. The three-eyed beasties in question are a wee bit upset about the delay. You haven't done anything permanent to Tallest Purple now, have you?" 

Red's antennae pressed forward in alarm. Purple was late for the meeting? This was positively unheard of! Red grabbed his towel and pushed past Siy, determined to find Purple and kick his green rear all the way into that meeting. "He's not been seen leaving his quarters," Siy called after him. "Have fun!" Red let out a derisive snort. Oh sure, he would have fun, but the real pleasure would be in killing Purple after the meeting. 

Red went back to his room first. If he was going to threaten Purple, then he was going to do it right. He had plenty of toys at his disposal to work with, though perhaps going through the halls visibly armed wasn't the best ideas. Red studied his tools carefully and at last settled on a dagger with a blade sharpened so finely that it could split a hair with the greatest of ease. 

Suitably armed, Red left his room for the short trip down the hall to Purple's quarters where he began pounding on the door. "Purple!" Red roared. "Purple! Open up!" No answer. Red's lips twitched as, with a snarl, he smashed a fist into the entry code panel. Metal crunched, sparks flew, and the door slid open. "Purple!" Red bellowed again. 

"Go away," came the muffled response. 

Red's gaze turned towards the bedroom. Purple's quarters were set up much like Red's, the differences lying in choice of decorations. Except for a pile of papers on a coffee table, everything was neat and tidy, controlled and organized. A place for everything and everything in its place seemed to be Purple's motto. Red nearly gave in to a sudden impulse to bring a bit of disorganization to the room, but he sternly reminded himself that he was here for a reason. 

First peering into Purple's sleeping quarters and locating his partner curled up on the bed, Red slid his dagger out of it's sheath. With a quick leap, Red pounced, grabbing Purple by the shoulder with one hand and whirling him around. The dagger went straight to Purple's throat, the blade pressing lightly against the skin. Purple stared up at Red, trembling fearfully. 

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but..." Red hissed dangerously, his voice slowly rising. "If you don't haul yourself out of this bed right now and get to that meeting, then I swear I will slit you from the neck all the WAY DOWN!" Purple swallowed hard. He was shaking so hard that Red had to pull the blade away before he accidently cut his partner. Red slid off of the bed to give Purple a chance to get up, but Purple didn't move. "I'm not joking, Purple! Get up now!" 

"I can't go out there," came Purple's quavering reply. "You know how word spreads around here, and with what happened last night..." 

So that's what this was all about! Red's fury began to melt as he started howling with laughter. "Slark it all, Purple!" he gasped between giggles. "I was the only one there, and I'm not about to tell anyone that you flashed me!" That was certainly true enough. What happened last night wasn't anyone's business but the Tallests, though Red was still trying to decide what he thought about it. When the Incident had occurred, Red had almost dashed after Purple to throttle his partner. Yet now here he was laughing about it. 

"Get out," Purple whispered, pulling the blankets up to his chin. Red stopped laughing, his antennae popping forward quizzically. "Get out," Purple repeated. "I'm not going to get dressed to meet the Jaelidians with you here watching me." 

Red's grin returned. "Don't worry. That's not a show I want to see. You gave me more than an eyeful last night." He turned for the door. 

"And Red," Purple called, causing Red to spin back around. "Thanks. For not blabbing, that is." 

Bobbing his head in acknowledgement, Red quipped, "No problem, Pur. I'll probably come try to kill you later on as revenge for the Incident. Have fun dealing with the Jaelidians!" Red left quickly, leaving Purple wondering about how seriously he meant his threat. 


End file.
